


exile

by dannyikigay



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Post-Canon, after the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyikigay/pseuds/dannyikigay
Summary: Maybe he cried because there was so much beauty and no one else seemed to notice it; maybe because he just wanted to be with Mana again, if only for a second. He was aware of his solitude, yet a strange, gripping force within him guided him towards an unknown light, because he felt that something good had to come, at the end of it all.
Relationships: Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	exile

**Author's Note:**

> i love poker pair happy birthday to them <3 just a lil something to celebrate their love

The wilderness had quieted down. The snow was falling slowly, muting all the noise. The wind whispered through the branches of the trees, carrying the gentle caresses of messages from another invisible world.   
  
Allen walked along the path, hands stashed into the pockets of his oversize coat, a scarf wrapped around his slender neck. Snowflakes melted into his colourless hair, a cold, stabbing sensation reddening the tip of his delicate nose. His body trembled under the layers of his warm clothes, bones frozen, something comfortable and melancholic and _sad_ clutching his heart. He gazed down at the footsteps he’d left on the snow, following the road as his head was empty, his entire being simply sensitive to the energy of the silent season, so strangely...peaceful. _Beautiful_. There were shadows around him, but Allen had learnt how to cope with his demons. It wasn’t always easy, especially during a lonely winter, but he was better.   
  
The time he’d spent at the Black Order with his friends was a distant memory. They fought as much as they could, side by side, and many perished under the unforgiving weight of a ruthless Fate, leaving phantoms on one’s soul and scars on one’s heart. Time flew by so effortlessly, and all the misery, the pain, the bloodshed, went away just as fleetingly, like ashes by the sea. In spite of everything, Allen recalled the moments he shared with his friends with a loving smile on his face, nostalgia making his lip quiver and his eyes grow wet with tears.   
  
Life repeated itself, but certain things would never come back. His body, carved with scars, had grown adjusted to all the sorrow, the numbness, and he came out stronger than ever. Stronger and wiser, with years behind him that _could_ never return, faces that he used to love and that would inevitably fade away under the passage of time. Instants, smiles, laughter, tears that melted into an apparently indefinite loop, only to turn into nothing but an incoherent image at the back of his head. Pages would turn yellow; words into dust.   
  
But he kept walking.   
  
Allen raised his gaze, taking in the immenseness of the sky. Pure, light blue, uncovering above him, snow fluttering graciously, bricks and stones painted in immaculate white. He was headed to nowhere, in complete harmony with the stillness of the Nature that surrounded him. Far away, bells chimed and a voice in unison resounded with the notes of a cheerful, celebrative song. No one knew it was Allen’s birthday, but he didn’t...mind. What he mattered was that he was alive, walking along like Mana told him to. He was living in harmony with all that beauty, still loving others more than himself because he felt that it was his duty: to battle himself for that wonderful, _wonderful_ world.   
  
He didn’t know why, but his breath was short and a sigh forced its way out his lips, eyes wet. Maybe he cried because there was so much beauty and no one else seemed to notice it; maybe because he just wanted to be with Mana again, if only for a second. He was aware of his solitude, yet a strange, gripping force within him guided him towards an unknown light, because he felt that something good had to come, at the end of it all.   
  
He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of coat and sat down on the bench by the tall willow. He shifted his boots in the snow, drawing circles and odd shapes, like the ones from that secret code he shared with Mana when he was a child. It all seemed so tender, as he thought about the way the man smiled when he created those mysterious messages, and all the strange implications behind them.   
  
With a rushed movement of his foot, he cancelled those forms in the snow. Every now and then a stranger walked down the same path, surpassed him, directed to everywhere and nowhere. Allen liked to imagine that people would never notice him as they passed by, as though he was some sort of protective ghost from afar, silent and contemplative. He’d disappear behind the trees, drown in the snow, becoming one with Nature, and no one would ever bat an eye.   
  
He liked to think that it was what he wanted. A soundless death, without giving anyone else pain.   
  
As the wind brushed through his hair, Allen shook himself from those thoughts. He looked around, pretty face tilted to the side, neck exposed to the cold, and saw a man from a distance, following the same path, slowly, more relaxed than the others before him. He held a cigarette between his lips, and from where Allen gazed at him, he noticed that he was tall, extremely tall; with arms so big and large and muscled that Allen wished they could embrace him, even if just for an ephemeral, mesmerising moment…   
  
The dark-haired man crossed Allen’s silver eyes. His breath and his heartbeat stopped immediately, caged in the magic of their mutual gaze. And while a smile formed on the man’s face, Allen was overwhelmed by a sense of wonderful softness, blood rushing to his cheeks and butterflies gathering in his stomach.   
  
“I thought I’d never meet you again.”   
  
His voice was still smooth like butter, deep and sensual, with the power, so peculiar to him and him only, to seduce him into total abandon. After two long years, however, it became deeper and rougher, a sign of painful, inevitable exhaustion.   
  
Despite his attempt to respond, Allen was frozen. His lips trembled a few times, and when he tried to say something his voice almost faltered in his throat. A part from his past was now standing before his two very eyes, still beautiful and dangerous like he used to be, if older, with a dishevelled stubble, with those messy black curls, with wounds of his own under his cozy clothes.   
  
He stood up, still shorter and smaller, and looked up at him. Tyki, like he always did, reached out to ruffle his hair, a smile curling his lips and a cigarette between his fore and middle finger. “You haven’t changed, still so unbearably cute,” he chuckled softly, playful and gentle and gorgeous, but implicitly trying to contain the emotion that gripped his heart. A sigh fell past his lips, something broken modulating his tone as he kept that smile, that lighthearted laughter, “boy.”   
  
“And you...still calling me boy,” Allen replied, melting with every fiber of his being under the caress of Tyki’s large hand, something he used to despise and fear, when they were forced to fight against each other, accumulating hatred, threat, futile feelings that didn’t overshadow the love they had for each other, despite everything. “You…”   
  
Tyki was alive, probably leading a new, honest life. He was like the man he met that day on the train, where Tyki gave him his deck of cards and played with him, establishing a connection between them that Allen had never felt with anyone else. Tyki was _alive_ , without a doubt, and that mere fact was enough to...hurt Allen in a sweet way, filling him with joy and appreciation and nostalgia.   
  
He swallowed once, twice, and Tyki laughed again, throwing the cigarette somewhere on the snow. He opened his arms, pulling Allen into a warm embrace, as if telling him there was no need to say anything after so much time. They always understood each other without words, talking wasn’t necessary. And after all, what Allen needed was his embrace, the way he held him in his arms, tight, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Sweet gestures Allen had always rejected, because he feared him, despised him for his past actions, but nonetheless ached for the man he met on that train. Tyki’s touch made him remember all the nights they lived together, away from everyone else, breaths fused as they made love, claiming each other, screaming cruelties into each other’s face, hating, wanting, denying what they truly felt.   
  
Then, Allen rested his face on Tyki’s broad chest and breathed in his masculine scent, his aftershave, cigarettes and cologne, closing his eyes and allowing himself to relish in that warmth for a few minutes. His tenseness gave way to relaxation as his hands slowly, timidly crawled up Tyki’s back to cling onto his jacket, as if wordlessly asking him to give him some of his warmth, some of his love.   
  
The man trailed a line of kisses on his face, delighted, because for the first time Allen was not pushing him away. Because everything was over, and there was no need to hold themselves back for something so...useless. In spite of the amount of time that had passed, the fire that had burnt him from the first moment he saw Allen was still consuming him from within.   
  
A warm hand touched Allen’s cheek, thumb smoothing across his scarred brow. Looking into his eyes, Tyki was drawn to the purity of his gaze, the beauty of his tragic strength. Allen let Tyki caress him, as he clutched the collar of his shirt, eyes fluttering shut when Tyki leaned down, delicately, to kiss his pink, cold lips. He abandoned himself to the affectionate touch, bones aching and heart thumping in the cage of his chest as the snow kept falling around them, the wind murmuring secrets to the trees, and the flux of life rushed by without the possibility of grasping it.   
  
Tyki was kissing him longingly, making up for lost time. Nothing, for a while, seemed to matter anymore. His loneliness just barely dissolved…   
  
***   
“I beat you up a lot, didn’t I?” Allen snickered, cozy under the sheets as Tyki hugged him from behind, the two of them laying on the bed of the man’s new tiny apartment.   
  
“You quite did. You flipped me over a few times when I tried to take you out to dinner,” Tyki responded, fondness tinging his voice as he chuckled quietly, amused, “when all I wanted was to pay for your food and spend time with you, really, with no one else involved. Every time I tried to be alone with you one of your friends intervened…”   
  
“That’s because you don’t seem reliable,” Allen affirmed promptly, and Tyki held him tighter in response, nibbling on Allen’s cheek in a spiteful, sort-of-sweet manner.   
  
“Rude. Rude, boy. But now look at _us_ ,” Tyki whispered into his ear, moving his hands in slow caresses on Allen’s belly, “you’re in my arms. We tried to kill each other, and I nearly did,” he went on, the caustic sarcasm driving a shiver down Allen’s spine, and the juxtaposition of the tenderness of Tyki’s touch, trying so hard to make up for his deeds, when he knew Allen forgave him a long ago, “we won against our destiny. We ended up like we were supposed to.”   
  
There was hope in Tyki’s words, the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could be...together.   
  
And wander, together, along the same paths, parting only to reunite again.   
  
“I’m not...sure about what I want to do next,” Allen muttered, resting comfortably between Tyki’s arms, sheets pulled up to his chin. “Everything feels so...empty and meaningless now.”   
  
“You could come with me,” Tyki suggested, smoothing his hand over Allen’s side, down his thigh, “you could find a simple job, we’d go on trips together, and stop when it’s not fun anymore,” he said, understanding him like he always did. He wanted Allen, but he didn’t want him at the price of each other’s freedom. “It doesn’t have to last forever.”   
  
Allen tilted his head to the side, looking at Tyki over his shoulder. Things he couldn’t say, he communicated them through a hot kiss, gently turning around so he could face him and cup his face, run his fingers through his curls, kissing him lovingly, letting Tyki’s stubble tickle his skin and his tongue lap across his lips in a way that made him feel so wanted, so adored on a cold Christmas night.   
  
He slung his arms around him, Tyki holding him desperately, kissing him deeply, softly, savouring that taste he loved, sweet and youthful and fresh, barely keeping his hands to himself as he touched him after so much time, after so many nights spent contemplating about what could have been if the war hadn’t pushed them apart.   
  
Swift fingers undressed him, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders, exposing him to the freezing air. Tyki kissed the scars on his chest, avidly, looking at him through his eyelashes as he pulled down his pants and underwear, peeling off every layer of fabric. Allen was exposed in all his fragile beauty, pure in Tyki’s embrace. He did the same to him, bashfully taking off his clothes and laughing a little when a button of his shirt got stuck; in the end, they were laying in each other’s arms, milky skin flush against Tyki’s.   
  
Tyki protected him like a precious thing, pressing kisses on his scars, his shoulders, his nipples, his hand. He intertwined their fingers together, the tip of his nose brushing his as they looked into each other’s eyes, despite Allen being unable to keep up that contact for so long. He was afraid, afraid that things wouldn’t last, that the warmth of Tyki’s body would be just a memory. He buried his face in the crook of Tyki’s neck, cupping his nape, eyes closed, long lashes tickling Tyki’s skin ever so slightly.   
  
“Doesn’t this bore you?” Allen asked quietly, if a bit scared. “You were always on the run. And that time, when you...saved me,” his voice lowered to a whisper, his face pressed against Tyki’s chest, “you said it would be no fun to play cards with me, with the way I was acting. And now…” a knot formed in his throat, something undefinable and painful pervading him whole, “I think I’m not exciting either, am I?”   
  
“But that was a different time,” Tyki answered, placing a kiss atop Allen’s forehead. He trailed his fingers down his back, soothing the shivers that shook his form. “What I wanted was...that you learnt how to be true with yourself. Things have changed,” he hooked his fingers under Allen’s chin, guiding him to be brave and cross his warm gaze, “I just want to be close to you, boy.”   
  
Allen thought that he wanted the same thing. And he did. There were no more wars, no more conflicts, if not the one with his inner self. Tyki meant no harm, his arms a protective shield, his kisses the cure for his aching wounds.   
  
He rested a kiss on Tyki’s chest, whispering, almost breathless, “hold me,” as if Tyki wasn’t embracing him enough. And Tyki did. His arms were painfully tight around him, almost suffocating. But it was okay.   
  
On the night of their shared birthday, they were happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> comment below please!!!!! merry christmas


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